


Pardon Me

by InsomniacCoffee



Series: Pile of Ashes [5]
Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Past Relationship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e01 Renovationklok, implied/referenced drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniacCoffee/pseuds/InsomniacCoffee
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”It’s one AM and Charles knocks on Pickles’ bedroom door.
Relationships: Charles Foster Offdensen/Pickles the Drummer
Series: Pile of Ashes [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972474
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Pardon Me

**Author's Note:**

> I fixed some dialogue/grammar, added more, but did this on mobile because I felt like it so there might be mistakes I won’t fix until later tomorrow. 
> 
> This was requested by [me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniacCoffee/works) because I am self indulgent if it’s not clear enough and I really needed something like this so thanks past me!
> 
> [Original Post](https://insomniac-pens.tumblr.com/post/620397473277624320/i-literally-have-requests-and-other-things-to-go)  
> Date Posted: June 08 2020

There were many, many, _many_ instances in Pickles’ life where he learned that as much as it killed him to not know, it was better to not ask a question in the first place. Asking the wrong question at the wrong time was almost a death sentence and one he learned very quickly in the short amount of time he spent living in the streets back when he was a teen. It had become a skill, almost, to know when to ask the right questions at the right time. It didn’t mean he actually became more careful as time passed by but the skills and mindset always was tucked underneath in some corner of his brain. 

With Charles coming back from the fucking dead it was easy for him to realize that it was a situation where he probably was better off not asking any questions. Charles supplied so little whenever the guys asked and so he didn’t add any of his questions to it. It was easier that way for him to learn to move on and he liked to think he was just a bit grateful that Pickles wasn’t harassing him on where he was going.

Pickles just didn’t anticipate how much the idea of not knowing was eating him alive. And who could blame him, quite frankly? He had known Charles for nearly 2/3rds of his own life, had to grieve when he thought he lost him, and it turns out he was alive the whole time so he had to erase those nine months of pent up feelings. Pent up feelings that he knew would resurface and create a mess everywhere. A mess he didn’t want Charles to pick up for him.

So he did what he did best and that was drinking and taking whatever was nearest to him. While it worked for a while, there was only so much he could do before the effects would wear off and he was left to those thoughts again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget. Couldn’t forget what happened that night and the nights afterwords. Grieving (or post grieving?) was a bitch.

It must’ve been a few weeks or maybe even days when Charles knocked on his door at near...one in the morning? It was odd considering how Charles normally wouldn’t bother him or the others at this time. If it was important, it could be left in the morning as he always said. Naturally, he finished the rest of his cheap beer and tossed it aside before shouting, “It’s open.” 

Charles was still wearing his suit when he entered the door, meaning he was working pretty dead. He always seemed to be staying up late more recently and it became apparent when they were finally alone. He looked exhausted.

“What’re you doin’ here? Did somethin’ happen?” Pickles asked. The questions were safe.

Charles seemed even more unsure of himself. It took a few moments of silence before he could come up with an answer, “I just wanted to see you, tonight, ah, if it’s okay.” 

“Oh, okay then. You wanna sit down?” He hadn’t expected such an answer from him. Maybe he had expected for him to yell at him over something he did or whatever. Not that Charles would go yell at him at 1 in the morning for but he had expected that day to come.

Charles sat down next to him on his bed without another word. Up close, he could see how different he looked. There were bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and even his skin seemed just a bit paler than usual. Pickles worried slightly about him (if not, more than usual) and almost out of habit reached up to touch his forehead. 

Charles tried to stop him but he was too late. 

“Christ, you’re cold. You’re gettin’ sick,” Pickles spoke up. He didn’t even remember the last time a person actually felt that cold and they turned out sick. Maybe it was just how he was and he never noticed? No, he got sick before and he definitely had high fevers, runny noses, and all that fun stuff. This was different. It felt different.

“I’m not getting sick, Pickles,” Was all Charles managed to say. _Maybe coming here was a mistake._

“Then why are you cold?” 

He didn’t skip a beat, “The AC in my office was broken.”

Pickles laughed, “God, you’re a terrible liar. At least take my blanket; I don’t want you dyin’ of hypothermia.”

Pickles grabbed the blanket from behind him and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was actually clean for once considering how doing laundry was one of the things he began doing to keep his mind occupied. He grabbed an unopened can of beer and offered it to him. It was actually decent quality this time which was probably why Charles accepted it. 

Charles opened it and took a sip. It felt warm going down his throat and the taste was decent. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost two, “Am I keeping you up?”

“No, not at all. It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep, anyway.” Pickles answered quickly, “But you need to sleep though. No offense, but you look like shit. Can’t you take a day off or somethin’?”

“I ,ah, can’t. Still have a lot of work to make up for. I’ll be fine. I didn’t come here for me, though. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“About what?”

“I can’t explain a lot about what happened and how I came back. And I’m sorry, you and the boys deserve to know but now’s not the right time,” Charles began. He looked at the beer can, not at him. 

It was clear the conversation wasn’t business related. He would always look at him no matter how difficult the business conversations were. The fact he couldn’t even meet his gaze meant this was about them on a personal level, “I mean, it’s okay, I guess. Some kinda explanation would be nice but I’m fine. Just glad you’re back.”

He shook his head at that, ”Its not enough but for you, I can tell you one thing. I really did think a lot about you while I was gone. It’s really taken me being dead and revived to realize that. And I know what I said before, about us, but I can’t bring myself to keep things so unresolved between us,” _Especially with how short the time we have left may be._ He wanted to say but kept that to himself.

Honestly, Pickles had to make sure he didn’t get wasted already. Nope, not even completely drunk. Besides, when Charles was drunk, he didn’t have to try and read between the lines to understand what he’s saying. Though, knowing someone for so many years got him able to at least understand what he’s saying most of the time. He almost didn’t want to believe what he was saying though.

“I-So you’re sayin’ you wanna date? Is that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s an easier way of summarizing that. I know it’s not professional of me but I realize now that I shouldn’t let professionalism get in the way of relationships if I feel so strongly towards someone. And I do feel strongly about you. I’m just so sorry it’s taken me so long and made me die to realize I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pickles could feel his face flush and his heart beat probably faster than all their songs’ combined BPM. It wasn’t a conversation he could imagine having at one AM with a Charles who seemed so exhausted and somehow different. But then again, he didn’t expect for him to die and even come back. Maybe dying and then coming back changes your perspective on things you once held with a high regard. Or maybe it was just how life worked.

He leaned closer to him. His voice was soft, as if waiting for this to be some kind of test that he would inevitably fail, “I coulda waited. I didn’t mind.”

“You waited long enough,” Charles answered and leaned in closer to kiss him. Warm lips were against cold lips but it somehow felt like it melded so perfectly together. God, they were really waiting far too long for this.

Pickles had to pull away to be able to breathe. He looks up at Charles, tears almost threatening to form as he hugged him tightly, “I really missed you, Charlie.”

“I’ve missed you too, Pickles.” He wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly.

Pickles could swear Charles muttered something, but he didn’t hear. He didn’t care. There was something so nice about the fact that his 9 months’ worth of grieving didn’t feel so entirely wasted. Those constant years of always feeling the same way towards him somehow felt worth it, even when Charles put on the damn suit and said their unresolved relationship had to be put on hold.

He convinced Charles to sleep with him tonight. He had asked him on warm comfortable clothes to sleep in even if the other said he didn’t feel cold. He thankfully obliged anyway. 

They hit the covers once they were ready. Pickles rested his head on his chest, feeling Charles wrap an arm around him. His skin was still cold and Pickles had some uncomfortable feeling it would remain cold for a while. He supposed that would be something to deal with in the morning much like having to tell his bandmates about their new relationship.

Pickles could feel Charles slowly drift off, probably for the first time in such a long time. And with some weight off his shoulders, he slowly drifts off as well.

He doesn’t ask about why he doesn’t hear his heartbeat. Some questions are best left unanswered. 


End file.
